


...To help you

by SerenePhenix



Series: Sibling Squad to the Rescue [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Lance's Insecurities are being discussed, Post Season 7, Protective Siblings, Team Dynamics, Veronica and Marco only want Lance to be happy with the people he loves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 07:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenePhenix/pseuds/SerenePhenix
Summary: Veronica took a large gulp of water first, deciding if she should answer honestly. Her mind was made up instantly.“Lance has been considering staying with us.”





	...To help you

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of something that might get longer? I am unsure. Let's see where this goes.  
> Kudos to anyone who makes it to the end.

 Once might have counted as nothing more than a fluke. A second time she might play off as a coincidence maybe. By the third time, Veronica had a sinking feeling plaguing her. After the fifth time, she had stopped counting and instead started to consider that this had to be more than a mere “fluke”.

Far be it from her to hold grudges or make hasty decisions, but the more time Veronica spent around team Voltron, the angrier she became almost every instance.

Honestly, the fact that her ire had grown enough to be noticeable even to her family was admirable in itself – there were few people that could pride themselves in having disturbed Veronica’s inner peace so profoundly that she was falling back into bad habits.

“You’re chewing on your pencil.”

She startled, taken aback by Marco’s nonchalance. She cleared her throat and demonstratively put the poor, abused tool down to recline in the uncomfortable chair they had stolen from another room down the hall so that at meals everyone had a chance to sit at the relatively small workbench that served as their table and “office” outside of office.

But the last one only truly concerned Veronica herself.

Marco was idly scrolling through something on a datapad, finger lazily dragging along the surface. Judging by his expression it had to be pictures from before the war had broken out – small glimpses of the past he had managed to take with himself on an even smaller chip he had guarded with his life. It was incredible he had ever thought of taking them with him, much less having stored them there in the first place.

The original chip still hung around his neck, attached to a sturdy necklace and protected by a plastic casing that had seen better days already. A testament to the trials and losses the journey from Cuba had brought with it.

She caught a glimpse of a picture –fairly old, since she caught her nine year old herself in the left-hand corner – and she felt something in her chest tighten as she caught sight of Abuela smiling up from an angle. Such a sweet smile, unsuspecting of all the terrible things that were to come.

There was no way that Marco had not noticed her taking off her glasses to wipe at the corners of her eyes, but he had the grace to not further comment on it.

“I miss her.”

“Me too.”

She wished she could have seen her at least one more time. Once the Galra had arrived she had not managed anything more than to text her family in a group chat, telling them to run and hide.

After communications had been cut by the invaders, there had been many nights where Veronica had lain awake, wondering, worrying, sometimes crying in the privacy of her small bathroom.

So, when she had reunited with them months later after the missions in the tunnels, the joy had blinded her to the terrible truth for a few minutes.

Knowing that her family was mostly safe and unharmed was a blessing, but as her parents sat her down and told her in soft whispers that their Abuela had suffered a stroke or heart attack during their crossing, Veronica could not stop herself from thinking that it was unfair.

One more time. What she wouldn’t give to tell her one more time that she loved her.

But it was too late, and as she rationalized (as much as it hurt), she was so much luckier than many of her friends and comrades. Many of them had no more family to return to outside of this building.

The gurgling and hiss of the faucet had Veronica looking up, watching with a small smile as Marco came back with a glass of water she accepted gladly.

“Thanks.”

Marco shrugged, corner of his mouth twitching upward a little.

He had been the one to try CPR on Abuela when it had happened. Of course he would, seeing how he had been a lifeguard at Varadero beach for a few years now. Still, it had not worked. Veronica hoped that Marco did not guilt himself over it.

Likely sensing she might ask first if he did not intervene, he pointed to her pencil, her gnawing having left clear indents in the smooth plastic: “What’s up with that?”

Veronica took a large gulp of water first, deciding if she should answer honestly.

Her mind was made-up instantly.

“Lance has been considering staying with us.”

Marco blinked at her in clear shock. His flat palm came to slap at his forehead before it started smoothing his hair back.

“Oooooh… so that’s what the whole morning crying was about.”

Veronica nodded. Neither she nor Lance had explained themselves to the rest of their family and so far she had respected that, even if Maria, Luis, Mama and Papa had needled her. They were worried and Veronica understood it all too well, but Lance was the one who needed to decide for himself when to open up about his impending choice. Today though had put a few things into perspective for her and she needed a second opinion for that, and out of all of their other family members, Marco was one of the more discrete ones. He’d know not to blab.

“I personally think he should stay.”

Marco did give her a questioning look at that but waved his hand for her to go on.

“A team should be about respect and trust. And there is nothing against teasing each other or making jokes. Even our MFE fighter pilots tend to do it,” she smiled fondly at that. One might not be able to tell, but those kids were masters of banter in their own right. According to Veronica’s own tally chart Leifsdottir and Kinkade were tied for first place, not by the amount of shots fired but by the accuracy and truthfulness of them. Griffin and Rizavi, even as a united force, stood no chance.

Veronica’s smile vanished though, as she remembered the interactions she had been privy to over the past week, where she had taken over for a communications officer that had fallen ill.

It was probably due to their late night conversation and the endless praise Lance would wax about his teammates, but what Veronica had seen and heard instantly made that cold yet blazing protectiveness resurge.

As she had concluded, team Voltron was indeed made up of wonderful individuals, unique and incredible in their own ways.

When one gave it a bit of thought, having former cadet Keith Kogane work almost seamlessly with a team felt like a fever dream. While Veronica had never personally interacted with the defiant youth back in the day, she had heard complaints from all of the staff forced to deal with him. The calm leader giving instructions over the comms was almost unrecognizable. Captain Shirogane always seemed to swell with quiet pride whenever it was pointed out.

Veronica could understand him all too well – if anyone were to talk that same way about Lance, she would likely not react any differently.

Pidge, or rather Katie Holt, was indeed just as smart as Lance had emphasized. Not that there had been any doubt about it during the briefings and strategy talks leading up to their final stand, the young woman coming up with a multitude of scenarios whenever a new element and detail was added to their plans. Veronica was all too curious about finding out just how she was processing things so quickly even without a computer handy. In regards to snark, she and Rizavi would get along wonderfully.

Hunk was the main reason they had managed to salvage many of their vehicles in the aftermath of the fight. She had yet to taste any of his cooking (which Lance reminded her daily was to die for), but what she could say was that he was a creative engineer. Just the other day, she had listened to him chatter with his friends all the while helping one of their engineering groups restarting an emergency generator for a medical facility. In the end, he and the other engineers had ended up building it from scratch, Hunk throwing in suggestion to get the most out of it. Some of these adjustment sounded downright alien - which they most likely were.

Princess Allura herself was one of the most regal and beautiful women Veronica had ever had the pleasure to meet. Which may be why she was rooting for her brother and, subsequently, liked flustering Lance with comments and remarks regarding Allura’s interest in him. But as much as Allura was a princess, she was also a kind and devoted person, one of the first to rise to coordinate the actions for reconstruction and the last to leave in the evening.

Amazing people in their own rights and yet…

“I do not think staying with team Voltron as it currently is will do Lance a lot of good in the long run.”

She looked at Marco over the rim of her glasses.

Her earnestness must have hit a nerve, since slowly Marco’s surprised expression shifted from disbelief to concern, his brow furrowing and mouth pinched.

“What makes you say that? Lance seems to like them. Can’t be that bad then, can they?”

Veronica let those words settle a little.

No, the members of team Voltron were not bad people, not by a long shot. But just as any other individuals with agency, they had their faults and made mistakes.

Allura, as Veronica had noticed, could be somewhat stubborn if she saw herself in the right.

Hunk could be dismissive of others when under pressure.

Pidge had a tendency to be unrelenting, be it in her very scientific explanations or tasks she had set herself.

Keith seemed to not always think things through entirely, sometimes getting blindsided by details that had not been discussed prior, ultimately tripping him up.

But all of these, in Veronica’s opinion, were excusable.

She needed to take a deep breath, indignation rising inside her like bile. It was not helpful or necessary at the moment. She needed to keep a clear head. Marco’s judgement need not be clouded by her feelings.

“Did you know that when you are in a relationship long enough, you become deaf to certain things being repeatedly said, both parties no longer noticing it even happens?”

Marco gave a cough that soon turned into full-blown laughter.

“Tell me about it. Marta would never shut up about me messing with her nifty system for all of our clothes,” his expression lost a bit of its mirth. Veronica could only guess that he was mentally revisiting the rooms of a house that was probably destroyed like much else on Earth, “After a while, it just became a running gag. Heh, even the kids were getting a laugh out of it.”

“Exactly.”

He started at her sudden interjection, at the harshness in her voice as she gripped the glass she was still holding with a little more force.

She took another deep breath as Marco slowly came closer, taking with him his chair with protesting screeches from chair legs dragging across the floor.

Once sitting, he leaned forward, crossed arms resting on the table’s surface, face grim.

“What’s going on?”

Veronica raised her left hand, elbow still on the table and started massaging her temple with her thumb. The pain when she pressed just the right spot was distracting enough to calm her.

“I’ve been dealing with communications for a while now, to help with coordinating the reconstruction efforts. Ever since Lance told me about wanting to quit, I might have paid more attention to him and his team, however subconsciously,” her lips twitched but there was nothing funny about all of it, “And this past week, since taking over for officer Anatoly, I’ve been in charge of communicating them their tasks. For that, I’m on the comms constantly and I hear everything that’s going on.”

She took off her glasses, putting them in front of her, wiping at her tired eyes. The screens were doing them little good.

Marco was kind enough to wait, even went to refill her glass and Veronica thanked him for it.

“I cannot tell you how many times Lance has been treated as ‘dumb’ in this one week alone.”

Marco’s stared at her open-mouthed, indignation making his shoulders hunch and his brow furrow so deeply that Veronica was almost afraid the resulting wrinkles would be permanent.

His mouth closed with an audible clack that had both of them wincing, but it did obviously not quell Marco’s anger.

“All of them?” He merely asked, and suddenly Veronica was no longer sure this had been such a good idea.

She put a firm hand on his shoulder, felt him tremor slightly under it.

“Not all of them.”

It still did not seem to appease him.

“What about his commanding officer? Shouldn’t he intervene?”

Veronica resisted the urge to suck in her lips, thinking back to all of the instances where Captain Shirogane had indeed intervened when the team’s discussions went too far off topic for them to still be entirely concentrated on their tasks.

Her heart felt heavy.

When words failed her, she merely shook her head.

“Just as I said: you become deaf at some point.”

The chair went crashing down as Marco surged to his feet, stomping towards the door, and it took all of Veronica’s strength and weight to stop him as she latched onto his wrist with both her hands.

He turned on her sharply, his eyes ablaze with fury and Veronica was so, so glad that she was not at the receiving end of that raw fury.

“This solves nothing,” she reminded him, her voice calm while everything inside her was anything but.

Marco tried to unlatch her, but if he thought her training was for nothing then he was sorely mistaken.

“MY BROTHER DID NOT GO TO WAR TO BE CALLED DUMB!”

His voice boomed through the confined space and Veronica was beyond thankful that right now everyone else was still gone, that luckily it was just them here.

Marco gave another shot at throwing her off, but just as with the first time, Veronica stood her ground, digging the heels of her shoes into the floor.

“I agree with you, I do,” she amended, voice growing louder at the last few words as Marco still resisted, “But antagonizing the people he looks up to and loves is not going to help him!”

Because her brother had told her as much. Shortly after their heart-to-heart, Lance had repeatedly come to her when he could not sleep. As far as Veronica could guess, the impending decision was robbing Lance of sleep. As if recurring nightmares he refused talking about were not already doing a fine job of it. On one of those nights, as Lance had heavily leaned into her side with drooping eyes, he had whispered about the time he had spent hunting coins in a mall’s fountain to get Pidge some retro console from Earth. He had fondly whispered of Keith’s cluelessness about simple cheers, mentioned Hunk and Pidge’s reprogrammed Paladude, a gaming session with Coran and their team leader (and Lance still refused to tell her why he had suddenly been crying at that one), or how Allura had helped him train with a cool sword he had yet to show Veronica.

Lance, undoubtedly, loved his team just as much as he loved them. And Veronica did not doubt that if she asked the team, they would likely call Lance their friend. That did not mean however, that they were properly showing their appreciation.

Veronica would be lying if she said that none of their own family had never called Lance a ‘brat’ or a ‘dumbass’ on occasion. Because Lance, for all of his helpfulness and sweetness, could be a pain to be around. Still, at the end of the end of the day and after every sibling squabble, there never had been any doubt that they loved and supported him.

And as she had observed recently, Lance had very much mellowed out and matured during his stay in space.

Which was why she agreed with Marco’s statement but could not allow her very loyal older brother to hunt down any perceived offenders on Lance’s behalf.

Lance did not need added conflict in his life, and Veronica would not forgive herself if she were to become the source of it.

Marco gave a huff but remained still, face turned to the closed door leading to the hall.

Veronica seized her chance.

“I want Lance to be happy. I promised him that I would respect his decision no matter what. And there might be a chance that Lance does want to go back out there. You’ve noticed as well, right?”

The way Lance would sometimes look out at the night sky, tiny dots of light reflected in his eyes as he gazed out with a longing that was far beyond any of their understanding. It was the core of Lance’s conflict.

He had seen space and its wonders, was enticed by it like those old sailors by the sirens’ calls, but just like the legendary Odysseus, her brother was tired and weary just like most of his friends.

And if Veronica had to guess, there was a good amount of loyalty involved in Lance’s indecisiveness.

Loyalty to his friends.

Loyalty to his duty as a defender of the universe.

Loyalty to their family.

Marco was growing less tense under her touch, allowing Veronica to let go with one hand to cover her eyes.

“If Lance wants to go back out there, I will let him,” her voice dropped to almost a whisper, “but I do not want him to be stuck with people that will inevitably bring him down.”

There was pressure building behind her eyes.

“I don’t want to lose him too.”

Barely a minute ago, she had held onto her brother to stop him from leaving, and the next she found herself enveloped in a bone crushing hug.

They held onto each other for a long time, Marco drawing back first as he gave her an apologetic smile.

“Is there any way to fix this mess?”

Veronica had given it some thought over the past few days. The conclusion she had come to was daunting.

“I think the first thing that needs to be done is addressing the issue. At this point, I’m afraid that Lance will try to rationalize it.”

When they had been younger, Lance tended to do that a lot. He might grow angry if someone treated him unfairly, but in the end he would always find a way to explain it away. Usually the common nominator was Lance himself. In an educational environment, it had sometimes saved Lance’s behind, since he’d end up applying himself more for upcoming tests.

But this was not school, and this was not merely tests they were talking about.

Veronica loathed to think what conclusions her might already have or might come to in the future, should a mission go wrong.

Marco gave a groan next to her, knowing all too well what his sister was referring to.

“What’s more is that Lance is not doing himself any favors. I’m talking about dismissing input that is too complex for him and shutting down attempts to simplify it.”

Because she had heard it herself. Usually it was Pidge, sometimes the Altean advisor that Lance would shut down the moment they went to explain a given topic in depth. At this point, it also no longer mattered whether this behavior was the origin or the result of the team’s perception of Lance.

“You called?”

Marco froze at the voice sounding from the door they had not heard opening, and Veronica felt any hope of formulating a plan of attack fly out of the window.

Marco turning around allowed them to look at Lance who stood in the entrance, head cocked to the side and holding out a generic white plastic bag.

Lance’s eyebrow was drawn up, giving both of them a very questioning look.

His expression was enough to tell them he had undoubtedly heard that last part.

This was not how she wanted this conversation to happen, but if they did not tackle this at once it would only lead to misunderstandings.

Marco was ready to stammer his way through a lie, she could practically hear the gears turning frantically inside his skull, and she decided to intervene at once.

“Actually, yes,” she gestured at the table with a placating smile, faltering a little when she noticed the chair still lying on the ground. That detail did not escape Lance’s notice and he frowned all the harder for it.

This was not going as planned.

Lance needed to be as relaxed as possible. She needed a distraction.

“What do you have there?” She asked, glancing at the plastic bag still dangling from Lance’s wrist. He appeared taken aback by her sudden interest, but a genuine, excited smile spread on his face.

“Oh! Yeah, this is from Hunk. I asked him if he could cook something for you guys, since none of you believe me he’s a good cook.”

He was bouncing over to the area where the plastic plates and cutlery were stored and Veronica watched a little helplessly as Lance set the table for the three of them while Marco quietly put the chair back in its place.

He looked so happy, pouring water into an electric kettle while dumping a few spoonful of a powder substituting coffee into three mugs.

She wanted this to last. She wanted for Lance to smile like this more often, to be happy and not worry about leaving people behind.

Once everything was set for the three of them, Lance saying he hoped the others would come soon, he finally wrangled out an inconspicuous hot pink bowl out of the bag. The moment he removed the lid, Veronica could feel her mouth water.

“Are those...,” Marco started, voice almost an awed whisper.

Lance’s grin was almost reaching his ears: “Yep!”

There was no mistaking it. Veronica would recognize one of her favorites from a mile away.

She knew she was gaping in a very undignified way but…

“How?” she breathed, taking one of the looped pastries between her fingers, inspecting it with wonderment.

“Don’t ask me. I have no idea how Hunk still managed to cook half of the stuff we ate on our trip back and still make it look like Earth food,” his expression momentarily turned into a grimace before easing into something less disgusted, “Sometimes you really don’t wanna know though.“

He shuddered a little while Marco was already biting off half of his buñuelo, slapping the table with the flat of his palm.

“This is so good,” he finally said, looking close to tears.

They laughed good-naturedly as Marco reached for a second, when his first one was still held in his other hand.

It looked and smelled a lot like the pastry they had baked back at home on special occasions. Hunk had even taken care of covering it with thin streaks of dark caramel. It was every bit as soft and tasty as it looked when she took her first bite, and she now understood Marco’s sudden outburst.

It was one of the few pieces of home she’d had in a few years.

“It’s really good,” she said, actually sniffling, making Lance laugh again.

“I know.”

They ate in silence, Lance closing the lid once they each had two (“So there is some for the others!” he had reprimanded Marco), and each taking a sip from their coffee.

Marco had been won over, obvious in how he kept pestering Lance with questions.

“Where did your friend even get all of the ingredients? Do they have a secret stash of cassava here on the base?”

“Once again: don’t ask me, ask Hunk. He can tell you.”

That had Veronica looking up, still cleaning her glasses with the hem of her shirt. Under the automated evening lights, Lance looked a little washed out. Now wonder, his day had been longer than hers, even without actually having spent that much of it outside of the base.

Now or never. She put her glasses back on, turning to Lance fully and garnering his attention at once.

“On that same matter, Lance,” and she almost did not say it, not when this would instantly break this small reprieve from their everyday lives, “you get along with your teammates, don’t you?”

For a few tense seconds it looked like she had broken Lance with her question.

His chuckles were filled with confusion and discomfort.

“What are you talking about? Of course we get along, we’re team Voltron after all.”

She could feel Marco’s nervousness as if it were her own. This was not going to be a nice conversation.

“I’m not merely asking about your cohesiveness as a team, I’m asking about your solidarity as a group of friends.”

Lance was already reclining back into his chair, his eyebrows going up as he stared at her in incomprehension, hands bracing against the edge of the table.

“Veronica, I’m really sorry, but I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.”

She was ready to retort, when Marco beat her to it.

“Are you really okay with your friends calling you dumb?”

She could not believe him. Veronica threw him a glare she hoped would melt his head off but Marco just returned hers without any remorse.

Their attention was drawn back to Lance as he waved his hands around.

“Woah, woah, hold on a tick! What’s this about? And what’s up with you anyway!” He addressed Marco directly, irritation palpable in his voice.

“This is not some kind of joke Lance,” Veronica interjected, giving her younger brother a stern look that threw him off, “You know I’ve been listening to you for a while over your channels, and I admit that I… do not entirely approve of what I’ve heard so far.”

It was more than just “not merely approving” but there was no need to rile Lance up further. If he was any bit as protective of team Voltron as he was of them, there would be no getting through to him by accusing them of anything.

Still, Lance’s eyes moved from her to Marco quickly, obviously not understanding or accepting what was happening right now.

Finally, and sadly, he leaned back with his arms crossed. She wanted to hit Marco for his blunder. This was now going to be harder than ever.

“My relationship with my team is great. What do you even mean by the stuff you heard?”

Band-aid it was then. Quick and painful.

“I am not okay with my brother being repeatedly told and treated as an idiot.”

Hurt flashed across Lance’s face at that but what really caught Veronica’s attention was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. So he was not as unaware as he pretended to be.

He swallowed dryly, hunching in on himself, his eyes shielded by his brown locks with how much he’d lowered his head.

His words were so low she almost did not catch them.

“Doesn’t matter.”

She was ready to explode from tension alone at this point.

“It does, Lance. It matters to me and everyone else!”

She had not meant to shout but this was just too much. Both Lance and Marco jerked in their seats at her outburst. The defiance he had previously shown was quickly bleeding out of Lance, as he made himself even smaller. He suddenly looked like he’d aged at least a decade.

Still, he said nothing, not in his defense nor of his friends. Just sat here with them; a tense silence consuming them all.

Marco was careful in pushing his chair away as he got up. Veronica was unsure what he wanted to do, knowing Marco he might either stay or leave to fight this battle another day.

Relief flooded her when instead of going to the door, Marco circled the table and before Lance could even react, had their brother enveloped in a tight hug. It was a little awkward, Marco having bent down his bulk to embrace Lance while the latter’s arms hovered in the air a little uselessly, blinking back at Veronica in confusion.

Marco was not really a man of words, and Veronica not someone who sprung into action easily. But maybe, with their forces combined, they might be able to get through to him.

“Lance,” she said quietly, her calm voice having her brother glance at her with his still bewildered expression, “I know you really love your friends, but that is no excuse for them to walk all over you when they hurt you. Even if they do it unintentionally.”

He was enraptured by her face, not even caring about the tears undoubtedly clouding his vision.

Time to put her cards on the table.

“I would feel better knowing that, if you go back up there again, you do it with people that respect you and your boundaries.”

There was no more holding back the tears. Lance’s entire face crumbled, one of many small sobs bursting out of him as he kept staring at Veronica pleadingly, his arms at once clinging to Marco so tightly he might leave bruises.

Not that Marco minded, Veronica could see Lance’s jacket straining a little with how tightly he was winding his arms around him.

Veronica settled with smiling at them fondly.

One step at a time while the clock kept on ticking.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Before you comment: Please, no bashing team Voltron. 
> 
> This story was not written with the intent to bash any characters or the idea that Lance has to be won over by one side or the other. Lance is not a prize to be won in a game of tug of war.


End file.
